


if i only taste one thing, i want it to be you

by alderations



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Confessions, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Recovery, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: Hanzo stopped drinking two months ago, but the world carried on around him. Except Jesse.





	if i only taste one thing, i want it to be you

Hanzo had insisted that he’d be fine so many times that he hated himself for wanting to get out now. He knew full well that Jesse would understand and be happy to make excuses for him, but his godforsaken pride was too powerful to do anything, so he was practically glued to a sagging sofa as he tried not to watch his brother doing shots of Bacardi Limón one after another in front of him, while Angela stood next to him swigging straight from the bottle. He hadn’t expected this, two months sober and doing fairly well. When the team had started out with fruity cocktails and the occasional beer, Hanzo had been alright, and then he apparently had let his guard down. Enter the hard liquor, and suddenly the smell was suffocating him—he couldn’t move, could barely breathe, and despite his years of solitude, he’d never felt so alone in a room full of close friends.

 

Mei wandered past him, waving drunkenly and bringing with her a fresh wave of sickening smells. “Hanzooooo,” she crooned, “did you want a soda or something? I’m sure that your brother bought drinks for you!”

 

“I am fine, thank you,” murmured Hanzo with a forced smile. He adored Mei too much to take his misery out on her, even if it was hard to keep himself together. She patted him on the head and staggered away, and then a pair of hands slammed down on his shoulders, and it took every sliver of self-restraint in Hanzo’s body to keep from shrieking.

 

But the hands, despite the surprise, were gentle, pressing agile thumbs into the back of his neck while the rest of the fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt and splayed across his collarbones. One of the hands was significantly colder and firmer than the other:  _ McCree.  _ Hanzo felt himself relax so fast that he ought to be embarrassed, had he the energy.

 

“Startin’ to get to ya?” Jesse questioned, leaning down so that no one would overhear. If anyone else questioned Hanzo’s sanity so directly, he’d cause them physical harm, but Jesse  _ knew. _ Jesse had held his hair back while he vomited the last bottle of sake he ever drank; Jesse spooned him for two days straight when he was feverish and barely clinging to reality; Jesse smoothed the bags under his eyes and brought him pitchers of water and promised that he’d never leave until Hanzo made him. Withdrawal was a bitch, and his boyfriend was an angel. “D’you wanna go for a smoke, baby?”

 

At least they had other vices. “Yes, please,” Hanzo whispered, letting Jesse pull him to his feet as he made his way around the sofa and into Hanzo’s line of sight. Affection danced in Jesse’s eyes, and his broad chest huffed with exertion under his green flannel—he’d been dancing. “Your timing is unbelievable.”

 

“Oh, I know.” Jesse’s contagious laughter spread to the nearest drunks, and outward from there, which kept them all distracted enough to keep from commenting as the two men slipped across the rec room and out onto the balcony. Buffeted by late-night winds and grinning down at him, Jesse was beautiful in ways that Hanzo had never even considered.

 

Jesse lit a cigarillo faster than should be humanly possible, as always, but he then offered it to Hanzo for the first few drags. “Pardon me for doubtin’ ya, but you made it longer than I expected.”

 

“Myself as well.” Hanzo blew smoke out of his nose, then passed it back to Jesse. “Thank you for… rescuing me.”

 

“Any time.”

 

A gull, likely disturbed from its rest, called down by the shore of the island. Swallowing his doubts, Hanzo leaned closer to Jesse and buried his face in the man’s shirt, to breathe in well-worn smoke and gunpowder and leather, with a touch of vanilla. “I did not realize that the—that the smell would be so difficult.”

 

“I know, sweetheart. Our team would do well to respect that, but y’know, none of them went as far down that particular rabbithole as us, anyhow.” Jesse took another puff from the cigarillo and then turned to Hanzo, smiled warmer than summer, and kissed him with a mouthful of smoke. It took all of Hanzo’s concentration to stay upright at the dizzying combination of tobacco and Jesse’s mouth. 

 

The air between them was hazy when he pulled away. “You don’t taste like whiskey.”

 

Jesse shrugged. “‘S been a while, I guess.”

 

“I had assumed that you would drink tonight.”

 

Silence fell, awkward this time as Jesse avoided his gaze. Now that Hanzo really thought about it, the familiar smell had been absent for weeks. “I—I haven’t really drank in, uh, two weeks or so? I think? I’ve just been, y’know. I’d been drinkin’ less. Since I’m with you so much o’ the time, and I didn’t wanna put you through that.”

 

“Jesse,” Hanzo muttered.

 

“What, darlin’?”

 

“Did you quit for me?”

 

Their eyes met, Jesse’s wide and almost panicked, as if he’d been caught stealing some treasure and Hanzo was ready to punish him. “N-not on purpose,” he backtracked, oblivious to Hanzo’s fluttering heart. “I jus’ wasn’t around it so much, and then once I got through the worst of the hangovers, y’know, I figured I was halfway there and I could take it nice an’ slow, not like you did—not that you did anything wrong, I’m still so  _ fuckin’  _ proud of you, Han, but—”

 

“You quit for me.” Hanzo could’ve cried, but he forced himself to stay stoic as he stomped out the cigarillo they’d been sharing and lifted his hands to Jesse’s face. “You didn’t have to do that, Jesse. You could’ve—”

 

“No,” Jesse interrupted, “I wanted to. I wanted to be better, like you.”

 

Hanzo lunged forward and into a kiss, toothy and sharp like they so often were. It tasted like smoke, and cheap party snacks, and a long evening of awkward dances and avoidance, but not a drop of liquor. His breath caught in his throat, shuddered, escaped between Jesse’s willing lips. Never before had someone been willing to go so far and be so  _ proud _ for Hanzo.

 

He’d be damned if he weren’t about to hold on to Jesse like the world was ending around them.

**Author's Note:**

> ive never smoked before in my life which has got to be painfully obvious from my writing
> 
> anyway i dated an alcoholic and im on hardcore psych meds [dabs] so i cant drink and the smell of alcohol is a trigger for me, and my professor fucking brought wine to class and im not even of drinking age and the smell got to me and then i also put on lotion thats a bad sense memory and i needed to vent, and hanzos got a cute lil water bottle on his new skin because Hydration and Recovery and i Love him
> 
> feedback is beloved and appreciated!! i hope u enjoyed!!


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